


Chain of Drabbles

by RedRavens



Category: Bleach, Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Ouran High School Host Club, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 36
Words: 15,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRavens/pseuds/RedRavens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chain of memories? No! Chain of drabbles! (Mainly Harry Potter crossover, with Harry-centric pairings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Oh yeah?! Prove it!"

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.

** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!

** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/Draco

** Warnings:  ** none ****

**Prompt:** “Oh yeah?! Prove it!”  


 

When Harry first learned that he was supposed to be Draco Malfoy's mate, he scoffed at all those present - the headmaster, McGonagall, Snape and the Malfoys - and stated simply, "prove it!" before he left.

And that was the end of it as far as he was concerned.

Of course, he didn't take into account just how bleeding _stubborn_ the Malfoys could be. He started receiving gifts, letters, mementos, and everything a potential spouse could think to ask. A pity they didn't take into account that he was, in fact, an independent man instead of a girl from early 19th century wanting to marry 'up' in the world.

Harry got so fed up with the gifts that he resolved to put his slightly underdeveloped Slytherin side to use, and the plan was quite simple actually...

On the morning of December 18th, Harry got yet another gift, this one wrapped in bright yellow wrapping paper and inside it, a bracelet made of aged gold and full of tiny charms that bestowed upon the wearer luck, protection, the constant feeling of affection from the other person and acted as a direct 'portkey' to said person.

A fine gift indeed.

If he had been a girl and was in need of affection and had such low self-esteem that he needed to be reassured of another's feelings all the damn time. Thanks, but no thanks.

Harry stared at the bracelet for a moment, pretending not to notice the letter. The bracelet he put aside, the letter he burned - pretending not to notice the horrified gasps all around him - and went back to his breakfast.

Just a few hours later, Draco Malfoy found the same bracelet on his bed, it was attached to a piece of parchment and a photograph.

Harry was incredibly satisfied with himself when, the next day, the one to receive a gift was Romilda Vane.


	2. Lost Journal

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/Percy   
** Warnings:  ** none   
**Prompt** ** :  ** Lost Journal

 

The oddest things can approach two or more individuals. In some cases is a shared memory, in others a gift, a party, joining in a school activity, fighting a troll... or simply picking up the wrong book.

"Shit, shit!" Percy Weasley uncharacteristically cursed as he rushed through the halls, his History of Magic NEWT was about to start and he was late! "Shitshitshit!"

Thankfully, it was the last NEWT he would have to take and since Bins couldn't teach if his life depended on it (which, thankfully for all involved, it didn't), the examiners had allowed the students taking the test to consult their own notes. Percy sighed in relief as he patted his traveller's bag. The notebook was inside it, his notes were safe.

Quietly he stepped in the Great Hall, people were still milling about so he wasn't that late, thankfully. Quickly locating his appointed desk, he got out a blank parchment to act as a base, quill, ink and the notebook.

Only... it wasn't the notebook.

His notebook did not have 'HJ's Journal' on the cover.

His notebook did not have messy handwriting and random drawings inside.

His notebook most certainly did not have a detailed account of Harry's adventures with the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets or accounts of Harry's games.

Percy was suddenly taken out of his horror induced stupor as the parchment with the NEWT was shoved in his face.

x

Percy walked inside Gryffindor's common room in a daze. He had certainly flunked History, sure it wasn't all that important, but it was still a note that might make a difference in his future career. He swallowed as he watched his youngest brother and his friends studying. Well... the girl was studying, Ron was trying to cajole Harry into a game of chess by the look of things.

Still feeling a bit odd because of the test, he approached the trio, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder to get their attention, "Sorry Ron, I'm stealing Harry here for a bit..." He didn't wait for an answer from his brother, just staring at Harry and then nudging him towards the portrait. Both of them were quiet for a bit, before Percy took out the journal and handed it back.

"I found this in my bag."

Although his face remained stoic, inside he was grinning and laughing like a mad man as he saw the blush spread all over Harry's face, his eyes wide in wonder and a bit of relief.

"Oh! I-I thought I lost it, thanks Percy!"

He remained stoic despite the melt-worthy look Harry was giving him. He could easily picture himself rubbing his hands in glee. Because of the damn notebook he had most certainly got a D in History... of course it was Harry's fault. Therefore Harry had to pay.

Though if the last pages of the journal was any indication, Harry would probably like the sort of punishment he would be dealt with.


	3. It's always the quiet ones

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/Percy   
** Warnings:  ** hints of sex near the end   
**Prompt** ** :  ** It's always the quiet ones

Three years. For three years Harry Potter had waited for the punishment Percy Weasley would give him. An undeserved punishment because it hadn't been his fault, at all, that his journal and Percy's History notebook were misplaced.

For three years he had waited, anxiousness getting the better of him sometimes as he imagined the sort of horrors Percy would give him. Nevermind that he had gotten an A in History, nevermind that it had been Ron's fault, and nevermind that he had had somewhat of a crush on Percy prefect when he had been in third year.

And today was the day of retribution, the former prefect had told him so.

Shyly he knocked on Percy's bedroom door. Just for today he would be staying in Grimmauld Place, Harry couldn't remember the excuse he gave Mr and Mrs Weasley, but it had worked...

Harry startled as the door opened, the bedroom was a regular guest room, a huge bed, drawer, desk, fireplace with no connection to the floo network; Percy was sitting by the desk, his gaze faraway as he contemplated the bed.

Harry approached him, unease starting to gnaw at him. He was dimly aware of the door clicking shut, but he was incredibly aware of Percy as he stood up and came to stand before him.

"Well now... I hope this will be a lesson so you can learn not to misplace your things. This is just between the two of us, got it? It is a just punishment, with the sort of mischief you got into in the last five years I say it's long overdue. Nevertheless, if it _really_ bothers you, if you _honestly_ want to leave, now or at any time, fell free to do so. Now... first thing I need you to do, is to stand still and close your eyes. yes, yes, just like that, good boy."

And suddenly there was a pair of lips against Harry's own, he twitched with the need to open his eyes and stare but he did the opposite, he shut his eyes tighter than before as he attempted not to melt against the kiss. Percy was kissing him. One of his favourite redheads was kissing him! His eyes snapped open as he felt a tongue trying to invade his mouth, and as soon as Percy saw those lovely green eyes staring at him, he stopped the kiss.

He was cackling like mad inside.

"You like to ignore rules, don't you, Harry? Ah well, I wasn't really planning on continuing with the punishment, but it seems that I'll have to go on."

"But it wa-"

"See, you keep interrupting! That's it, on the bed Harry."

"But, wha-"

"On the bed!" Percy glared at him, before giving him a slap on the covered bottom, a slap that send Harry tumbling to the bed, and before he could move and sit up, he felt the twenty one year old man straddle him, felt him lean forward and take the tip of an ear between his lips before whispering in his ear.

"I ended up reading the whole journal, it was just too much, a third year with a crush on the Headboy, but it was too soon, you weren't even fourteen yet, but now... now I think you just might be all nice and ready for me, aren't you? If you don't want it, say so, and we'll stop."

As he received no response other than a muffled moan from the sixteen year old, Percy grinned, planting a kiss on Harry's cheek and easily getting out of his pants.

"You know Harry, since you seem incapable of being quiet all on your own, how about I help you out?"

x

The twenty year old man smiled coyly at his older lover as he pretended shyness as he removed the bathrobe.

Only to be interrupted by said lover tugging him closer and settling him nicely on his lap.

"You know, love," Percy said conversationally, as if he wasn't getting hard just having Harry on his lap, as if he wasn't subtly rubbing against that lovely arse. "Coyness really doesn't suit you," the twenty-six year old muttered, his hands busy with the bathrobe's knot. Harry had matured well over the years and, even if they were awfully young, Percy hoped to someday make Harry completely his.

"Oh shut up, you used to like it."

"Sure, when you were a naive boy, now that doesn't suit you."

"Really? What suits me then?"

"Silence."

Moments later, the only sound that could be listened to was the sound of moaning. And it wasn't Harry.


	4. Train Station

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/OC   
** Warnings:  ** none   
**Prompt** ** :  ** Train station

The first time Harry Potter met Jonathan Romanov was on the train back from their first year. As Harry had very few classes with Ravenclaws it wasn't unreasonable that he had overlooked the silent boy. It was simple coincidence that they had to be in the same compartment along with Ron, Hermione and Neville and both boys had had to wait while Harry's guardians and Jonathan's parents went to pick them up.

With nothing left to do, they sat down to maybe get to know each other. It was hours before anyone showed up to pick up the two almost twelve year olds, and when someone did show up, it was Mr. Romanov. According to Alexei, Jonathan's father, traffic had been horrible due to an accident so that's why they were late.

During that time Harry had learned that his classmate was a half-blood, like himself, was an only child, he didn't quite like Quidditch, but he did enjoy flying, and he was the direct descendant of the Romanov line, that was said to have been killed in Russia aeons ago.

Jonathan, on the other hand, learned that Harry loved to fly, loved DADA, enjoyed cooking and had no idea about his family or the position he held. Before they departed, Alexei deciding to wait until Harry's guardians showed up, both boys promised to write each other during the summer.

Because of some technical issues on both parts, they never ended up writing - or receiving mail for that matter.

They saw each other again at the start of their second year, Harry waving at the other boy in greeting, while Jonathan smiled at him and nodded in recognition. It was an odd acquaintanceship for Harry, he was used to extremes, people being overly friendly, or hating him on sight. This thing they had, getting to know each other, but not instantly slipping into 'best-friends' mode was new and refreshing.

And things stayed that way for a while, exchanged greetings, talking, random meetings and pairing up in either Charms or Transfiguration... until fourth year when Harry's name came out of the goblet of fire. With one simple line Harry had gone from a mostly well liked person to public enemy number one. No one believed him, no Gryffindor classmates, no Weasley and no Hermione either.

Well... almost no one.

"Did you put your name in the goblet, Harry?" Came the whisper a few days later, Harry was hiding in an empty classroom, trying to get away from the angry glances and whispers.

"No, I didn't." Harry replied, looking down at his own hands as he fought the urge to play with the book pages, Mrs. Pince would not be pleased if he did that.

"Good," Harry's head snapped up at the sigh of relief from the other boy, "I had wondered if someone had polyjuiced into you." Jonathan smiled at his friend, it was the first time they actually talked outside of class, aside from quick words in the corridors. He quite liked the change.

Harry smiled at him, thinking of his second year, "did I ever tell you about that time in our second year, when..."

'Yes,' Jonathan thought, fighting down a giggle as Harry recounted his escaped into Slytherin lair. 'Yes, he'll be all right.'


	5. It happened again

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Sherlock Holmes.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Sherlock/John   
** Warnings:  ** none   
**Prompt** ** :  ** It happened again

Dr. John Watson sighed in exasperation. He was tied to a chair, again, being held at gunpoint, _again_ , and with some sort of lowlife criminal mistaking him for Sherlock, _AGAIN_!

Really, what was it with criminals that they tended to forget how Sherlock looked, he had even posted a picture on his blog and linked it to Sherlock's page, for easy access. Was it too much to ask for a criminal 'mastermind' to google a picture before kidnapping someone? With a 'mastermind' label, it's a logical deduction that said person would have a certain level of intelligence or skills to properly search someone before any nefarious plot is put in action. Hell, he wasn't exactly expecting a genius or even an IQ like Sherlock's, just a basic level of understanding and willingness to do research! Honestly, with criminals like that, was it any wonder that they ended up caught and/or dead? At least this time he wasn't with Sarah, thank God! Sherlock would probably murder him if he ended up in such a situation with Sarah again..

John huffed, and would have slouched on the chair if he wasn't chained to it. At the sound of a gun clicking he looked up at the criminal. It wasn't worth it trying to remember his name.

"What?" He asked, in that annoyingly bored tone that he usually chided Sherlock for.

"You're awfully sure of yerself, Mr. Holmes, to talk to me like that."

John Watson couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not Sherlock!"

"Sure yer not." The criminal rolled his eyes.

The next few moments were spend in pure boredom while they clearly waited the rest of the supposed group. The ones to arrive, instead, were clearly MI5 men.

In moments it was all over, the man arrested, the MI5 searching the hide out and a few of them untying him and asking a few questions. Behind them? The figure of two people, both tall but one a bit larger around the middle than the other one. Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.

"So, what happened this time?" John asked as he approached the brothers.

"Another one wanting revenge. They mistook you, for Sherlock. Honestly, I keep telling you two to come work for us, I've no idea why you keep refusing, anyway, we're practically done here, is there anything else Sherlock?"

"No, no there isn't."

"You're unusually silent," John said a few minutes after Mycroft had left. To that Sherlock just shook his head in resignation. During the few hours where he had had no idea where John was, he had had an epiphany. Now all he had to do was lead John, subtly, to the same conclusion.

"Just don't it again."

"You do know it wasn't my fault, right? Right? Sherlock!" John cried out, frowning as he ran after his friend.


	6. Names part I

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/Ron/Hermione   
** Warnings:  ** none   
**Prompt** ** :  ** Names, part I

"Oh you can't be serious!"

"It's the perfect spell!" Said Hermione Granger, idly flipping through a book in the library, in front of her Harry and Ron were both leaning over a book, staring at a specific spell.

"Movollo?" Harry asked.

"Sounds more like a name than a spell." Ron muttered, tapping the book.

And suddenly Harry begun snickering.

"Harry?"

"Mate?"

"I wonder... how would Voldemort react if his Death Eaters were vanquished with a spell that sounds like his middle name." Harry grinned, and Hermione begun snickering too.

"His middle name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, Ron." Hermione explained, a smile still on her lips.

Needless to say neither of the three could quite study after that.


	7. Mission: Improbable

** Disclaimer:  ** I do not own Harry Potter.   
** Title:  ** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!   
** Pairing for the chapter:  ** Harry/Hermione   
** Warnings:  ** none   
**Prompt** ** :  ** Mission: Improbable

 

Harry was on a stealth mission: Get inside the common room without Hermione noticing.

Hermione, the best female friend he had, the smartest girl in their generation, but most important of all: The new Gryffindor prefect! She made Percy look like a little lazy, amateur kid, she was the scariest of   
all prefects. And the most deadliest. And she had managed, somehow, to see through his invisibility cloak.

'Honestly', Harry thought to himself as he quickly transfigured one of the loose threads in his pocket into a mirror, crouched on the floor and spied the next corridor for any sign of Hermione, 'I don't know why I bother.' He withheld a sigh, seeing the corridor all clear and stepped forward, chanting under his breath to detect any traps she might have laid out in the corridor leading towards the stairs. 'No,' he admonished himself mentally, 'Theo's worth it, I think.'

His eyes went wide as he stared at the thin grey line he was about to step on. A Trap! (yes, it was necessary to add the Capital letters!) he mouthed a silent 'Fuck!' before he stepped back, as he stood still he could hear faint footsteps coming in his direction, he knew those footsteps! Snape! If Snape caught him... it was detention! And he had a Quidditch match that weekend!

Harry pointed his wand at one of the windows, vanishing the glass, quickly stepping through the whole, hiding between the stone arcs and restoring the window again. And just in time too, for Snape turned the corridor and stepped on the faint line! In less than ten seconds Hermione turned the corner too and startled, looking at her Professor as if she was expecting someone else.

"Yes, Ms Granger?" Snape drawled, like all Slytherins learned to do in their first year. (And he would know, Theo had told him!)

"Just on patrol, sir. If you'll excuse me?"

Snape nodded and continued on the corridor. Harry quickly hid himself again as Hermione looked around, muttering something he couldn't hear, but his senses were tingling, he needed to move, now! The Gryffindor Tower was still too far to climb, but he could climb until the third floor and head for the stairs! Harry cast a mild sticking charm on his hands and knees and begun to climb the stone walls.

As he got to the third floor, he saw the hole on the wall the Peeves had created and quickly crawled inside, stopping short as he heard conversation, it was Professor McGonagall and Flitwick this time. Harry continued crawling on the ceiling, but cast a disillusion charm on himself, he hated the feeling of eggs breaking on his head but it was necessary.

Finally, Finally he got to the stairs! Just two more floor and he would be inside Gryffindor Tower! Casting the revealing spell ahead, he ran up to the fourth floor and stopped, listening. There were no one on this floor. Instead of running up to the fifth floor, Harry took a detour, taking the second corridor on the left, then the first on the right and opening a door disguised as an armour. It would lead directly to the stairs of the boy's dormitory.

As soon as Harry stepped inside the common room, Harry sighed in relief, he ran up to his own room and sat on the bed, it was only the second time he had managed to escape Hermione's traps! For tonight, he was safe.

Harry feel asleep the second his head hit the pillow, a content smile on his face.

Ron, on the other hand, grabbed the hand mirror Hermione had given him.

"Hermione? Hermione this is Ron. Harry's back."

"He is? Shoot, he got pass me this time!"

"Good for his, he's getting better."

"Yeah... I'll have to ask him later how he managed, I put everything I knew on the spells to thwart him!"

"Honestly, the kind of games you two play! I'll never understand it." Ron shook his head, going back to bed.


	8. Why's there paint on my arse?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Dean Thomas  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** "Why's there paint on my arse?"

Harry groaned as the sunlight hit his face, and tried to hide under the blankets. Only there were no blankets, there was an arm, and a leg... and... ugh! What was that smell?! Yeah, definitely Dean's morning breath! Yuck! Not that his was much better, it tasted like a rat had died in his mouth, or like Ron's old smelly socks.

He tried opening his eyes, only for that blinding headache from hangover to hit him with all the gracefulness and subtlety of a brick to the head. Followed by debris. Made of other bricks instead of plaster. How much had they drunk? And what? Harry could only remember the firewhisky and their attempts to make muggle drinks with it. He honestly wasn't sure if it had worked or not. He could  _ not  _ remember.

There was a mumble on his side, and then a snicker coming from Neville's bed. And it was only then that Harry noticed a breeze where there wasn't supposed to be one!!!!!

"Dean?" He whispered as loudly as he dared.

"Yesh?" Came the sleepy reply.

"'M I nekid?"

"Nuu..."

"kays..." and he turned around on the bed, effectively hiding his front, but showing his behind. His decidedly naked behind. His naked and wet behind.

"Dean?"

"Wha?"

"Why's there paint in my arse?" Harry asked, it came out much more lucid than he was feeling.

"I pain'ed? Ma'be?"

And then Neville and Ron burst into snickers. It was the loudest snickers Harry had ever heard!

"Wha'di'ya pain'?" Harry groaned.

"Dunno, go ba'ta shleep, Ha'ry" Dean mumbled, flinging an arm over Harry and drawing him near.

It was only when they woke up properly that Harry could inspect the 'damage', to be honest he really didn't mind, and the complain was only a token protest to the colours. Oh no, Harry did not mind having 'property of Dean Thomas' painted on his arse, not at all!


	9. Cello & Violin

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Sherlock Holmes  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Cello & Violin

Harry was 15 years old when he started with the cello, mostly it was to try and stay out of trouble and out of Umbridge's radar. He played mostly in the room or requirement after classes until dinner, and then on his room, under a silencing charm. It did keep him out of most trouble, though he did get a detention or two with the toad/hag hybrid.

When under stress from the class, he played. When he was trying to figure something out, he played. When Voldemort sent him dreams, he played. When he needed a plan, he played. When he needed peace of mind, needed to figure something out, needed to get away, needed a break from life, needed a break from homework... he played.

By the end of his 7th year he was an intermediate player, nowhere near enough to be a master, but no slouch either. Ron and Hermione found it odd at first, but as Harry was calmer after his 'sessions' they supported him, had even cajoled him into playing out of the silencing charm for the whole Gryffindor Tower, much to the pleasure of some students who had been curious about what the hell he was doing with a gigantic instrument like the cello.

The final battle had come and gone by the time he reached his mastery of the Cello and, wanting to get out of the Wizard World for a bit, moved into a two-room flat on 221B Baker Street, the basement flat. The rent was cheap and Mrs. Hudson was a lovely old woman.

But then he met Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson. Oh he liked John Watson well enough, the man had been in the army and seen an army and Harry could sympathize with that. But Holmes? The first time they had met Sherlock had tried to tell him his life story, which Harry replied with a definitely unimpressed 'I do know my own life story, Mr. Holmes, now if you'd be so kind as to leave?'

It wasn't until the first week, and his first case with the Unspeakables that Harry played the cello again, it was so he could see a way into the puzzle of information that he got, and it helped. Specially when the sound of a violin came through the walls.

The next time Harry and Sherlock met, it was to exchange two sentences before they parted ways.

"You never told me you played the cello." Sherlock accused.

"Just like you never told me you play the violin." Harry stated, and left.

The music continued, with each of them playing a complimenting melody when they heard the hint of a violin or cello sound. The one to change their relationship for the last time was Sherlock.

"You were sad last night." Sherlock stated, staring into the green eyes of the man he had come to appreciate.

"And you were angry, it happens, Mr. Holmes." Harry tried to get around the man, when a hand grabbed him, only to be met with oddly expressive blue eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

And Harry agreed. They talked, they played, they laughed and eventually Harry ended up in Sherlock's bed, and the Consulting Detective never let him leave


	10. Horcrux Hunt

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Ron/Hermione  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Horcrux Hunt

After fourth year Ron promised to himself he would never leave Harry or Hermione ever again, no matter how hard things were.

That vow was put to the test when they went Horcrux hunting though. The locket seemed to affect him more than it did Harry or Hermione, but not only that, they were all alone, often in the middle of nowhere, hungry, with no plan whatsoever and Ron often felt as if things were going downhill.

Things went even worse when he was fighting with Harry.

"Leave the locket!" Harry demanded, extending his hand.

"Fine! Have it!" And Ron threw the locket at him and left. And stopped just outside their tent 'door'. What the hell was he doing?! Ron and Hermione were his friends! Hell, Hermione was his almost-girlfriend even. And Harry was... well he was Harry! With a frustrated sigh, Ron ran a hand over his face and stepped inside again.

"I'm sorry! That- that _thing_ ," Ron hissed, "seems to affect me more than it does the two of you, I'm sorry."

And then Harry was hugging him, clutching him as if he was a lifeline that would disappear, and Hermione was hugging him from behind and Ron had one arm around Harry and one hand clutching Hermione's, and for the first time since their adventure begun, they were all right.

And then Harry was kissing him and mumbling about never loosing the two of them ever again, and Ron was fine with that development, Hermione was too, once Harry and him had kissed her and assured her that she was theirs.

And when everything was said and done, their triad, the first in over five hundred years, was formed.


	11. Caught in the act

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Fawkes  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Caught in the act 

When Harry first met Fawkes, the phoenix had it's burning day and was nothing but a chick without feathers. Harry had thought him cute, and had gently picked the bird up after getting permission from the Headmaster. They stayed like that, cuddling near the fire as Professor McGonagall talked to the Headmaster.

Fawkes didn't forget it.

When Harry's fifth year came, and with it the Ministry showing it's bigoted face and Umbridge, Fawkes first made sure that his boy was away from the Dementors along with the other fat boy, and then, later on, made sure to heal the damage that Umbridge was making Harry do on himself. But everything had a limit, and Fawkes reached his when that hag thought about using the cruciatus on his boy.

The fire bird, which had stayed with Harry after his pet left Hogwarts (much to Harry's and everyone else's confusion), narrowed his eyes at the woman, hissing at her in distaste. He couldn't burn her into a crisp, it would taint his fire, so Fawkes opted for the next best thing: he pranked her so hard that the hag just had to leave his Harry alone.

At first, she seemed not to notice, or just ignored it, as the days turned into weeks, she was weary, and as it made it's month anniversary, Umbridge was too afraid to leave her office. Harry had caught on too, and helped.

And then, just when they were doing their final prank on the Hag...

"What do you two think you're doing?" Came the stern voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Err..." Harry paused, looked at Fawkes, and answered with the most innocent look in his Professor's direction. "We're filling _Her_ office with lemon drops and transfiguring her kitten collection into a picture collection of pink-dressed toads?"

Professor McGonagall blinked, blinked again, and her lips twitched slightly upwards, "I see." She said, then turned around and continued on her way.

The next day Hermione reported the appearance of fifty points for Gryffindor and when she asked Professor McGonagall, the only reply she got was that Harry had outstanding control of transfiguration, imagination and drive.

For the next week Fawkes could be seen thrilling smugly to himself.


	12. Magic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Sherlock  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Magic

When Mr. Sherlock Holmes first heard of the British Magical Community, his reaction was a scoff and the word 'impossible' passed him lips for the first time in Harry's presence. Sweet, compassionate, lovable and utterly impatient and stubborn, Harry! Sherlock remained a non-believer for all of the 3.5 seconds it took for Harry to wave his wand and have him in the air upside down, hanging by his ankle.

As the saying goes "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains--however improbable-- _must_ be the _truth_."* And that was something that Sherlock tried to live by every day of his life.

It started with Harry's strange disappearing acts when he had no vehicle, then the voices coming from his flat, which Harry insisted was his phone put on speaker, then the decidedly odd people that came and greeted him in the middle of the street! People in cloaks, mad people!

And then... the final straw: Harry and Sherlock were both on Harry's flat, Sherlock was - for the first time in a while - advancing on Harry, intending on doing unspeakable things with the other man, when there was a pop, a person showing up out of nowhere (a woman) and shouting!

"Harry! You talk to Ron this time... he's thinking about using the- oh!" She blushed, her eyes going wide. "I didn't know you had company! I'm so sorry!" Then she bit her lip, stepping back towards the fireplace (a real fireplace even! Who had a real fireplace in the 21st Century?!) "I'll just... go, yeah, I'll do that. Did I just...?"

"Yes, Hermione. You did just break the Statute of Secrecy." Harry smiled at his friend, and made shooing noises. And then the girl... she threw something at the fire, spoke in a clear voice, "Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" and disappeared. INTO.THE.FIRE.

All things considered, Sherlock was pretty damn calm when he turned to Harry, arched an eyebrow and asked "What the hell was that?"

"Magic."

"Impossible!"

\---------------

* "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains--however improbable-- _ must _ be the  _ truth _ ." ~Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


	13. So, mate, what's your type?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Percy  
 **Warnings:** Language  
 **Prompt** **:** "So, mate, what's your type?"

"Truth or dare, Harry?" Hermione asked, slightly tipsy an leaning on Ron's side.

"Truth!"

"Now that's a Gryffindor to the core!" George announced, slapping Harry's back and hugging him close.

"So, mate, what's your type?" Seamus asked, smiling that naughty smile everyone had come to appreciate.

They were all playing a game, they being the surviving Weasley children, Harry, Hermione, Seamus (Ginny's boyfriend), Neville and Luna. Neville had gone into the kitchen to try and steal more Devil's Food cake from Mrs. Weasley as his dare. And Luna was talking with Charlie about her animals and his dragons.

"Do I have to?" Harry whined, shoving George away and falling himself on Perfect Prefect Percy's side. Much to his embarrassment, he took one glance at the former Headboy and blushed.

"Nah, your reaction gives you away, mate. All right then, have you ever seen Hermione's knickers?"

"Hey!" Hermione and Ron protested, getting laughter from the others.

And the game went on. Everyone found out that yes, Harry really did see Hermione's blue knickers (in the shower, when she forgot them there drying out), that Ron did feel attracted to Professor Burbage when he was fourteen, that George slipped his dad gnome dung in the coffee (and that Mr Weasley had never noticed the difference), that Dean did draw Ginny au natural*, once, when they were dating, much to the anger of all the males in the house, except for Harry and Neville, they found out that Percy and Oliver did make out once, and that Penelope watched. They found out that Neville had a ton of his grandfather's porn magazines, some of which had his gran's photo slipped in the middle, that Hermione had taught Ginny how to kiss with a hands on theory (that later led to a dare, a dare that Ron and Seamus did not complain at all!), that Luna did, in fact, blackmail Marietta Edgecomb into compliance with some dirt she had on the girl (which she refused to say), and that Charlie had, once, seen his fellows Dragon keepers going at it.

The dares were even more outrageous than the questions and by the end of the night they were all more than slightly tipsy, coming down from a sugar high and getting more than a little sleepy, maybe that's why things happened as they happened.

Harry was going into Bill's room when someone cornered him in the staircase. It was Percy, and neither him, nor Harry were drunk enough to forget a conversation.

"So, am I really your type, or is that George?"

"I like you better, you've yet to be a prat to me." Harry smiled slightly at him, blinking from sleep.

"Good," and Percy proceed to kiss Harry with a ferocity that Harry had only dreamt of having for himself, it made him hot, weak in the knees and light-headed. They ended up supporting each other against the wall.

"I'll pick you tomorrow, at 8:00pm" Percy murmured, still trailing soft kisses all over Harry's face.

"What for?"

"Our date, I'm not letting you get away, Harry."

And Harry was perfectly fine with that.

* * *

*Au natural = nude pics


	14. Unspeakables

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Percy  
 **Warnings:** Rated for explicit sex between males and dirty talk!  
 **Prompt** **:** Unspeakables

"Unspeakable, report!" The head of department demanded. Staring at the cloaked man in front of him. He knew the face of every single Unspeakable in his department, even if they were under concealment.

The new Head of the Unspeakables, Percy Weasley, former spy into the Ministry network. Someone reported to be ruthless, someone who had had to cast his family aside lest Fudge and Malfoy suspect him. Percy who, after Voldemort's death, had risen very quickly in the ranks. That he was also the suspected lover of lower Ministry worker Eowyn Selwynn was irrelevant.

Percy listened with a keen interest, he was leaning forward, his eyes narrowed, hands clenched under his chin.

"All right, Unspeakable, I'll review the case and let you know as soon as possible what can be done about the situation in Knockturn Alley. Meanwhile, take a break, you've earned it." The man bowed and left, Percy called his secretary and informed her that he had a migraine, to halt all incoming calls unless they were extremely important.

As soon as he finished the call, he leaned back on his chair, threw his head back and moaned.

"That's is love, deeper, oh! Fuck! Yesss." He drew out the moan turning it into a mock hiss. "No, stop!" He ordered. "I don't wanna cum on your mouth, darling."

From under the desk came out one Harry James Potter, Percy's bonded for the last five years, and one of the youngest Unspeakables in the department, working for the Research and Development sub-department, of all things! Harry's lips were glistening with a mix of pre-cum and saliva, his green eyes dark in lust and a rather obvious tent in his trousers.

"Where do you want me then?" Harry grinned, knowing better than to try and pleasure himself during their games.

"On my lap, my love. Take off your trousers, leave the robes on, I want to feel you around my cock."

Harry closed his eyes as he felt his bonded inside him, it was a feeling he hoped never to get used to.

"That's it love, ride me, just like that." Percy muttered, tugging on Harry's hair and kissing him.

And so they spent their afternoon.


	15. Freckles and red hair

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Ron  
 **Warnings:** MPreg  
 **Prompt** **:** freckles and red hair.

When Harry met the Weasleys, all the way back when he was an eleven year old child, he honestly didn't know he would develop first a fascination and then a kink over it. He knew that it was all Ron's fault, too. It started in their fourth year, what with having to 'rescue' his best friend from the lake and getting a close up of all that red hair and that face peppered with freckles.

After that, Harry paid attention to the Weasleys.

Ginny reminded him way too much of his mother.  
Bill had more of a strawberry blond hair than that shade of red Harry liked.  
Charlie had too many freckles.  
Percy had too little freckles.  
Fred and George were more orange than redheaded.  
Ron was... Ron was perfect for him.

Harry leaned against the window sill, staring at his husband of four years as he played with his nieces and nephew and Harry's own godson. All the children were trying to climb Ron, attacking him with tickles and blown raspberries much to the amusement of their family and friends. Suddenly Ron gave a mighty roar, changed into his animagus form, a Scottish collie, and pounced on the children, liking and generally making a nuisance of himself to everyone.

"All right, that's enough, Teyrngar ***** come on." Harry called.

"No!"

"Uncle Harry!"

"Just a few more minutes, please?"

"Not fair!"

Harry just rolled his eyes at the dramatics, "you can all play with him later, right now it's time to eat, so go on!" the children passed by him pouting but, as soon as Ron was near him, Harry forgot about everything around them as the collie begun to growl. Not the usual playful growl either, but one filled with teeth and snarls. A jealous growl. A moment later and Ron was standing in front of Harry, eyes narrowed, and fists clenched.

"You've got another scent on you, Mr. Potter." Ron growled, looming over Harry.

"Yes, I do, Mr. Ronald Potter." Harry arched an eyebrow, not at all impressed.

"Who is it?"

"Oh," Harry said, staring into the blue eyes he adored so much. "It must be from your child."

"Don't be ridiculous! My... child? Really?" The angry blue eyes quickly went from jealousy to confusion to surprise and love. "The potion worked, then? You're... you are, aren't you?" Ron didn't wait for a response, hugging his spouse and peppering Harry's face with kisses. "D'you think mum would mind if I kidnapped you? I really, really, really want to make love to you now." Ron whispered, turning then around so he could hug his Harry from behind, where he could lay his chin on Harry's shoulder and look at the still flat and toned stomach.

"Oh she would mind... but we can come up with an excuse I think." Harry answered, green eyes shining with amusement. And then Ron did something that proved, once again, why he was not only Harry's best friend, but the only one his heart belonged to. He lay his hand on Harry's stomach, rubbing gentle circles and whispering, so only the two of them would be able to hear.

"Hello little one, I'm going to be your daddy."

* * *

*teyrngar = loyal in Welsh (you can take this as sarcasm or not)


	16. Butterfly

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Lockhart/Harry  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Butterfly

When Gilderoy Lockhart saw the boy for the first time, he thought of a an scrawny caterpillar, he thought the boy was ugly, with hair all over the place and those awful glasses which just made his eyes seem shaded and bigger than was probably normal. And those clothes! Dear Merlin, if said boy wasn't the boy-who-lived Gilderoy would surely try to put the boy out of his misery. Instead he decided to turn the ugly caterpillar into a butterfly.

Too bad he went about it the wrong way.

The trapped caterpillar tried to put even more distance between them, closing himself off in a cocoon of his own making losing everyone in the process.

Years later, while Gilderoy matched his colours in the Janus Thickney Ward, he saw the man walk in and couldn't help but clap in delight. The man was a mix of greens and blacks and blues and he couldn't help but cry "Butterfly!" when he saw him.

The man just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Funny, you used to call me caterpillar."


	17. Hogwart's ghosts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry and Peeves  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Harry getting to know one of the Hogwart's ghosts better.

Harry decided this must be a dream. For surely ghosts – real ghosts – didn't exist. And even if they did never would they pay attention to him, talk to him and play (as much as a ghost can play anyway.)

"...and that's how you should scare them Little Potty." the poltergeist grinned at him, hovering above the boy as they walked (or floated) through the castle grounds.

"Oh, but won't they get mad?"

"Sure they will, but muggles shouldn't mistreat a little boy. So you can scare them all you like to put them in their place." Peeves nodded, as if he was the bearer of great wisdom.

"'m not little!" Harry cried, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest "I'm six!"

"Oh my," an old voice interrupted them, and Harry glanced towards the end of the corridor to see an old man in a dress heading towards him "How did you get here young man? No, never mind that, come on it's time for breakfast and I'm sure you're hungry." Albus grinned, holding his hand to the tiny child.

Harry decided this surely must be a dream, since Merlin himself was walking with him. He wondered where Arthur and the other knights might be... He turned around and waved at the poltergeist shouting 'bye Peeves!' before turning around and running up to Merlin.

Harry would only realize it hadn't been a dream five years later, at the welcoming feast.


	18. Pureblood Tradition

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/James Sirius  
 **Warnings:** Hints of underage sex (15)  
 **Prompt** **:** Pureblood Tradition

It was a well known fact that Potter men would only marry and carry on the line when the current head died. Harry Potter found out why it was so when he was eighteen years old. Sure he found it a bit weird but every Pureblood Family had its own tradition, _that one_ just happened to be theirs.

Seventeen years later, when James Sirius turned fifteen, he also found out the Potter tradition.

The newly turned fifteen year old watched in barely hidden excitement as his father walked into the room; today they had the house to themselves, Al and Lily were spending the day with their cousins and their mother to give them privacy.

With a reassuring smile, Harry approached his eldest child, his cock was half-hard already just thinking of that gangly body. Carefully he took off Jamie's pyjamas, caressing the creamy skin with the tip of his fingers, and then his mouth, his tongue and finally they were bare to look at each other.

It was hours later that Ginny returned with the other two, trying not to think about what her ex-husband had been up to with her son. She found them still in bed, the room stank of sex and sweat and she couldn't help but hate them a little; she left soon after, leaving a present and a card on the kitchen table.

Upstairs, the Potter men were entwined on Jamie's bed, Harry holding the boy protectively against his chest, his hand caressing the naked hip-bone. He couldn't help but feel deprived. He should have had the exact same experience with his own father, but that was just another thing Voldemort had robbed him off.

But now he had Jamie.

And Al, can't forget Al.


	19. Disastrous picnic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Lucius Malfoy and Hugo Weasley  
 **Warnings:** none;  
 **Prompt** **:** Disastrous Picnic

It was a mystery to everyone. There was no place to hide, no place anyone could have taken him. They were in an open field with no one in sight. There was no possible way... No way!

It was a big family reunion and the only thing that could, actually, hold the number of Wealseys and Potters was the open field by Stonehenge. The only one which should have been safe enough. But it wasn't.

In between setting the picnic, arranging tables, the food, the muggle repelling wards, the toys for the kids, the security measures to prevent accidents...

"Where's Hugo? Hugo!" Hermione Weasley shouted, looking for her only son.

"Hermione?" The tall redhead, Ronald Weasley, asked.

"I can't find that boy! Have you seen Hugo?" She cried, exasperated, she knew her boy liked to play hide and seek at the most inconvenient times, so she wasn't worried.

"He's playing again, don't worry love, he'll show up when he's hungry." And he kissed her temple, completely oblivious to the onlookers.

Under a disillusion charm, Lucius Malfoy sneered, staring at the couple and ignoring the child bound beside him. If the Weasleys wouldn't take care of their own offspring... He smirked at the frightened boy on the floor, well, he would have to do it, wouldn't he? And besides, the world was polluted with too many Weasleys, he doubted one less would make a difference.

"I wonder..." he murmured to himself, conjuring a piece of parchment and quill. Lucius pondered his actions for a moment before yanking the child's hand forward and slicing it open with his wand, only to dip the poisonous quill on the open wound.

A few hastened written words, a sticking charm on the huge stones of Stonehenge and he left, dragging the crying child along with him.

No one would bother with Hugo Weasley until later, each and every one of them would wonder where the boy was. Within moments panic would set in and the Aurors would be called, in the middle of the confusion, Lucius' conjured parchment would, eventually, begin to slide over the stone, burring itself on the grass.

And no one would find the one thing that might have helped.

 _'His body will lie forever in the Chamber.'_

Afterall, the Weasleys owed payment to the Chamber of Secrets.


	20. Meeting the Family I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Tom Riddle  
 **Warnings:** torture  
 **Prompt** **:** Meeting the family

The blood wards were still functional.

 _"Crucio!"_ A young voice shouted, sounding enraged.

"No! Please... no!"

 _"Crucio!_ " The person shouted again, and this time a different scream of pain was heard, along with pleadings from a female voice.

"Not my son! Please! Not my baby! Leave him alone!"

From his place on the sofa, Harry Potter stared as Tom Riddle cursed his family, he never would've guessed that leaving Ginny to die, giving Tom Riddle a human form and actually befriending the former Headboy would result in something like this. His family tortured, about to be killed by the same madman that murdered his parents. Even after all the promises that Tom had made to him about the Dursleys, Harry had never expected this.

And, honestly? It was better than television.


	21. Meeting the Family II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/James Potter  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Meeting the family

There were only two instances when James Potter could say with absolute certainty that he had been nervous. No, not nervous, absolutely, completely, honest-to-Merlin terrified.

The first was when his son was born and he had had to pick him up:

"Mr. Potter, would you like to hold him?" James had paused for a moment, staring at the tiny bundle wrapped in acromantula silk and wool.

It was a person.

A very, very tiny person.

James had to pause, take a deep breath and gather all the courage and bravado he had left at home that day – honestly Lily shrieking bloody murder was enough to cower even the most hardened warrior, at least he thought so.

He picked the bundle up with the help of the Healer, adjusting his grip and position until he could see the scrunched up red faced infant sleeping. It was a comforting weight.

And then Harry had opened his eyes (still a blue tinted grey at the time,) and yawned, seeming to stare straight at him.

And James was lost.

The second time wasn't nearly as fun, the second time it was during the final battle between his own son and Riddle. And Riddle had just cast the Avada Kedavra at his baby. And Harry had been hit with it.

Needless to say James had been in shock, just staring straight ahead at the battle, watching his son fall on the scorched grass.

Witness would later say that James had screamed at the top of his lungs (and papers would capitalize on it saying it was grief and whatnot.) But James was unable to remember, he would only come out of the daze when he saw his boy sitting up, coughing. And James could do nothing but hug his Harry, hands making sure he was alive while he took turns between kissing him and shouting about his foolhardy.

"Don't you ever, ever do that again!" James cried, disregarding everyone as he tugged his son close, refusing to let him out of his sight.

"Dad!"

"No, don't you dare say anything... if anything happened... if-" He cut himself off, just hugging Harry close, glaring at anyone who would even dare to glance their way.

"I'm fine, honest!" came the mumble for the vicinity near his chest.

"We'll see about that... that scare deserves a spanking, at the very least!"


	22. An awfull singing voice

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/James Potter  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** an awful singing voice

It wasn't exactly a secret, but hardly anyone knew that Harry James liked instrumental music. It's not that he had an aversion to popular music, or that he disliked the singers, it also wasn't that the wizards and witches who sang were pompous arses with a twisted view that they were the centre of the universe.

It was just that -

"I'm home!"

Harry looked up from his summer homework, getting his headphones ready.

"Hi dad." He replied with a smile, getting a kiss on his scarred forehead.

"What are you doing?"

"Just working on transfiguration theory, McGonagall said we'd work on human transfiguration next year." He finished with a small smile, partly embarrassed that he wanted to become animagi, just like his dad.

"Want some help?"

"No, not really... I've got it."

"Suit yourself then. I'm off to shower, what do you want for dinner later?"

"Hmmm... Outback?"

"Sure, Enfield or Romford?" James shouted as he walked around the house, getting clothes and his toiletries ready.

"Enfield." Harry shouted back, grabbing his selection of classical and putting _Rhapsody in Blue_ on, even as he heard the start of Whitesnake's _Love Ain't no Stranger_ coming from the bathroom.

Really, the only reason Harry liked instrumental and classic music, was because his father couldn't butcher them when he sang in the bathroom.


	23. Oh no, not again!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the literature pieces/characters mentioned.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Tom Riddle  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Oh no, not again!

Sometimes Lord Voldemort wondered why he did it, in fact, why he continued to do so. After two babies, all worthy heirs, and numerous hours by Harry's bedside, waiting for his Sweet as he delivered his children he really had to wonder why he continued to put himself in the same position.

"This is all your fault!" Harry shouted at him, his face twisting in pain as the potion did it's job, artificially creating a channel so that their new child could be born.

Three hours later and the Dark Lord was sitting by Harry's bed, holding the tiny little being wrapped in blue, the soft skin inviting touch. His eyes were currently closed, fists closed as he slept in his father's arms.

Harry was laying on the bed, watching both of them closely, his Lord and husband, and another person who would fill his heart, be his family.

"My King?" He whispered, wincing as he tried to sit up.

Voldemort's eyes immediately fell on Harry's form, taking the wince, the paleness of the young man. Sitting better on the bed, Voldemort gently pushed Harry backwards, watching as he grimaced as the counter potion worked to close up the channel. "It's nothing, my darling, just thinking."

"About what?" Harry asked, suddenly more alert than he had been, "there's nothing wrong with him, is there? Is our son all right?"

"Yes, yes, he's fine, he's sleeping, dear heart." The Dark Lord whispered, kissing Harry's forehead. "Have you chosen his name yet?" He whispered, adjusting his grip on his son, another member of his household.

"I was thinking of naming him after a literature character... how a-" Harry pouted as his husband covered his mouth with a hand, the Dark Lord's eyes shining with mirth at him.

"No, not again, Harry. You named our eldest, Jonathan, after Jonathan Harker; you named Isabella, after Isabella Woodhouse, my darling, I'm honestly afraid of your suggestion for this little one."

"I was just thinking of Arthur."

"Arthur."

"Yes," seeing the expectant look of his husband and King, Harry decided to elaborate, "after Arthur Dent, from the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

"How about something that won't connect to the Weasleys?"

"Oh, fine! Suggestions then?"

And they spend the rest of the afternoon discussing names for one little boy that would, eventually, be named Erik.

Harry never told his husband that he had been reading the Southern Vampire series, by Charlaine Harris.


	24. Shadow king

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Ohtori Kyoya  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **: S** hadow king

The youngest child of the Ohtori Empire thought, as he stepped into the London Heathrow Airport from a flight from Japan, that being the shadow king was not bad, not bad at all! While the rest of the host club were gallivanting in Chicago following Haruhi around, under careful supervision of his task force, here he was, in England. About to meet someone he has been pen-pals with since they were both pre-teens.

The correspondence started due to a program to learn English, Kyoya has gone with it due to his father's request and got information on a young, eleven year old boy, that boy had been Harry. Besides letters, they eventually exchanged pictures so Kyoya knew Harry, just as he knew Harry's best friends, Ron and Hermione.

One time Kyoya made a motion to sent e-mails, instead. But Harry had replied that he had no access to computers. That almost, almost stopped the youngest Ohtori from correspondence, Harry was a commoner! Worse, he was poor!

Of so he thought.

"Harry, are you sure he's around here?" He heard a female voice, the voice was coming closer.

"If he isn't we'll just go back." A man replied, was it Harry?

"Well, he said his flight would be arriving around now, Ron." There was another voice, also male.

And then he saw them: First the bushy haired girl, then the redhead boy and then... Harry. They exchanged letters, certainly, but never customs, so it was with a bit of embarrassment that Kyoya found himself with an armful of Harry.

He continued to be dazed until all four of them were in the car, driving God only knew where.

"Where are we going, Harry-san?" He asked, still being a bit formal as was taught by his upbringing.

"Drop the san, we don't use anything of the sort here," Harry explained, watching as Ron made a sharp turn to the right, right into a bridge that had the "Danger Ahead" sign, "And you're going to meet my world, trust me!"

And Kyoya did.


	25. Parselmagic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Tom Riddle  
 **Warnings:** Tom's a pervert, that's all I'm saying.  
 **Prompt** **:** Parselmagic

 _Of the many uses of Parselmagic, the one most prominent is its uses in sex magic. If one is so inclined, it can be directed towards making and moving a variation of toys, in bondage, in roleplay, in foreplay, in Master/Slave games, in threesome or orgies and in distance sex. It is worth pointing out that Salazar Slytherin, one of the most famous parselmouths, was exceptionally good in the usage of sex magic in distance sex._

"Are you serious?" Harry asked his friend after he read the passage from the book.

"Of course I am." Tom replied in that haughty tone of voice that said 'I'm better than you!' No one was really sure how he had come out of the diary, one day, exactly one year after the Chamber of Secrets Episode, there he was, on Hogwarts grounds. Harry would forever suspect that Lockhart had found the diary.

"All right... we can try it, but not in the dormitories!" Harry stated, looking into Tom's eyes and blushing all the way down to his neck and chest. He like Tom, he really did, thought that couldn't be said it of everyone. Malfoy adored him so much it was sickening to watch their interaction. Ron and Hermione were more neutral towards the Slytherin than anything, though Harry knew that it was only because of him. Hagrid and Ginny loathed him, no questions asked.

"Which one do you wanna try, then? The toys? Master/Slave games? Distance sex? Now that's a good idea." Harry's blush turned Weasley-red. "Imagine, if you will, that every time I masturbate thinking of you, and just so you know it's awfully often," Tom leered at him, "you'll feel my cock inside you, slithering in and out of your bottom. Though obviously you'll be alone, so there won't be anything. Or maybe on your tongue, you won't feel the cock, mind, but you'll taste the pre-cum."

"Tom!" Harry cried, his face as red his Gryffindor robes, and hurried up the steps.

"Oh, come on Harry! It will be fun! I'll even let you try it on me! Though I do so like your taste," and he hurried after Harry, a lecherous grin on his face. Afterall it was Harry's own fault that he was adorable when he was flushed and flustered like that.


	26. Black Heir

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry/Ron/Hermione  
 **Warnings:** Threesome  
 **Prompt** **:** Black Heir

Harry blinked at the goblin in front of him. The being has just told him that, as per Sirius' will, he would be the new Lord of the House of Black. Harry blinked again. He was already Lord Potter, due to his parents, and now... Black too? What the hell?

"Okay...?" Harry half asked, half stated. On his left side Hermione shook her head in exasperation, on his right, Ron rolled his eyes staring at his best friend with fondness. "All right, I accept." He put the ring on, thanked the goblin, and left.

As the trio walked home, they shared a look, then begun laughing, holding onto each other as they collapsed on the side walk. Ron and Harry high-fived, while Hermione snuggled on Harry's other side, and the Harry leaned to his left and kissed Hermione, just a gentle peck on the lips, then turned and kissed Ron, another peck on a different set of lips, and then Ron turned from Harry and kissed Hermione. The three smiled at each other, before Hermione burst into giggles.

"Best prank ever, Harry!" Ron said, patting his lover's back.

"Well... it was what Sirius would've wanted, isn't it? To see the House of Black finished?" Harry smiled, sharing another kiss with his lovers.

"I can't wait to see Malfoy's face when he hears it." Hermione giggled again, kissing Harry's collarbone.

"Well... just so we're clear here," Harry cleared his throat, first looking at Hermione. "Hermione, my love, will you marry me? Will you be Lady Potter?" He did want to add more stuff, but he wasn't sure how naughty Hermione was feeling.

"Oh, of course I will, my Lord," and she burst into giggles again before sealing their promise with a searing kiss.

"Oi!" Ron interrupted with a mock pout when the kiss deepened. "You've better not have forgotten me!"

Harry grinned into the kiss, finally pulling back and letting Hermione pout as he turned to Ron, "Ronald, my life -"

"Aww, Harry!" Ron simpered, batting his eyelashes.

"Shut up, you prat!" Hermione muttered, slapping the back of Ron's head.

Harry just rolled his eyes and continued, "will you marry me? Share he name of Lord Black with me?"

"Of course, darling." And Ron kissed him, his fingers entwined with Hermione's.

Afterall, the Will never said that Harry had to marry another girl to continue the Black line.


	27. Hands

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran High School Host Club  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Ohtori Yoshio  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Hands

Ohtori Yoshio stared at his hands.

He was in his office at his house, sitting in the chair, in the same position for the last four hours. The sun had set long ago but he did not bother to turn on the lights, preferring the dark to hide away his thoughts. The bottle of whisky, with accompany glass, sat in front of him but Yoshio ignored it. He feared the outcome if he took even a single sip of whisky.

Oh he wasn't an alcoholic, besides work he has no other issues, but Yoshio knew that if he took one single sip he would end up drowning in alcohol to try forget this day. A day full of confusing emotions and conflicting actions. At the heart of it all was his family.

His son.

His youngest, the third son, his fourth child, the one whom most thought probably wouldn't inherit his empire. And the one being that was the most likely to anyway.

Ohtori Yoshio stared at his hands.

He had expanded the empire even more when had he inherited it from his own father, he was nothing but a newly-wed back then, and Ohtori Natsuya was sick and ready to retire. With those hand he had picked up the Company an led to what it was today. Powerful, huge, a name to be recognised, feared and pliant to.

And with those same hands he had struck his child.

It was a close kept secret but Ohtori Yoshio did, in fact, remember each and every birth of his four children; he remembers Fuyumi, his first, and how he had picked her up moments after she was born, not disappointed that the baby was a girl, but proud that she was his. Yoshio remembers his second born, Yuuichi, crying in his arms after a slap from the doctor, he remembers how he just wouldn't stop crying until his mother had picked him up. He remembers his third child, Akito, and how the baby had begun to whine as soon as he was removed from his 'home'. And he remembers his youngest, Kyoya, whom his wife had the most trouble caring for those nine months. And how absolutely terrified he had been when he saw the baby blue in the face and the cord around the little neck. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life, and only the second time he had felt helpless (the first being the death of his father.) For the first year he had been a regular visitor of his sons' room during the night, assuring himself that Kyoya was actually breathing.

Truthfully Kyoya was the most likely to inherit Ohtori Holdings, he was the most cunning, the one who was most like him. Hell, he had been the one to actually save the company, and Yoshio would be lying to himself if he pretended he wasn't proud of his third son. And yet,Yoshio had struck him.

He wondered how he would apologize, he wondered if he should. He probably would apologize anyway but, in actual words? In actions?

It was another closely guarded secret, but Ohtori Yoshio knew exactly how his children's mind worked, how they acted, and what drove them. It was the sole reason he was so strict with them. And thus, he knew what to look for in an Ohtori-to-be wife, no, he knew what to look and what to consider for Kyoya's future wife. He snorted as he recalled the commoner girl standing up to him.

She was brash, a novelty, and someone (besides the youngest Suoh)who would challenge his youngest, who would keep him on his toes. Maybe... maybe...


	28. Bravery

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or Monty Python  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Suoh Tamaki/Hitachiin Kaoru/Hitachiin Hikaru/Ohtori Kyoya  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Bravery

It was a well known fact that, once in a while, Tamaki would forget his best friend was moody (to put it lightly) in the mornings and would try and wake him up for an adventure.

It was also known through the Suoh, Ohtori and the Hitachiin households that the twins were always delighted to come along and torment their 'king.'

"Bravely bold Tamaki, rode forth from Common-lot." Begun Kaoru, playing with a fake acoustic guitar as the twins followed the blond.

"He was not afraid to die, oh brave Tamaki." continued Hikaru.

"He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways."

"Brave, brave, brave, brave Tamaki." They sung in unison. Tamaki just blushed crimson looking anywhere but the twins.

"He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp, or to have his eyes gouged out and his elbows broken, to have his kneecap split and his body burned away and his limbs all hacked and mangled brave Tamaki." They continued, grinning at each other as they skipped through the halls of Kyoya-senpai's house. "His head smashed in and his heart cut out, and his liver removed and balls unplugged, his nostrils raped, his bottom burnt off, and his penis-"

Here Tamaki was quick to interrupt, because: 1 - he was starting to realise where exactly he was and what he was about to do; and 2 - he was slightly afraid of the twins imagination.

"Shut it! We're here, so be silent." He hissed at the two, easing the heavy door open. The figure on the bed didn't even stir.

"Kyoya? Nee Kyoya, wake up!" Tamaki whispered, he was not even honoured with a grunt.

"Kyoya?" He asked again, getting closed. His response was a nasty growl and Tamaki's eyes widened while the twins paled.

"Kyo-" He was about to ask again when the demon king turned, glaring at the blond. "Go away."

And the blond fled.

A few moments later, when all of them regained their breath and were making their way out of the Ohtori home, the twins started again

"Brave Tamaki ran away," restarted Hikaru, to be countered with vehement denial from Tamaki.

"Bravely ran away away," continued Kaoru, smirking at his twin, to be yet again denied by Tamaki. "I didn't!"

"When danger reared up and glared," they continued seemingly ignorant of Tamaki's plight. "He bravely turned his tail and fled. Yes, brave Tamaki turned about, and gallantly he chickened out."

"Bravely taking to his feet, he beat a very brave retreat. Bravest of the braaaave, Tamaki!"

All through the household could be heard cries of 'I never did!' and 'all lies!' And Kyoya, completely unaware, just turned around, oblivious to the cries of 'I never!' of his best friend.


	29. Battle Scars

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/John Watson  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Battle Scars

It's a well-known fact that some scars are move visible than others, John Watson can relate because of the pain in his leg while Harry Potter proudly displays the scar that begun and ended it all. Some scars... not so much, they're hard to detect, it's hard to know they're there.

Harry and John relate to each other at first glance, a kinship of soldier acknowledging soldier, a weapon recognising another. John was a weapon during the Afghanistan war, Harry sometimes still feels like the Wizard world's weapon. They're more similar than they would like to perceive, however. They both have scape routes - for John it's Sherlock, for Harry it's Ron - they both have very exciting lives, to make up for the addictive thrill of the war. So it's no wonder that, at first glance, they acknowledge each other with a simple glance and acknowledge each other's scars with more depth than Sherlock or Ron could ever perceive.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter," Harry begins the game first, a first move that says that, not only is he a weapon, a soldier, he's also a Lieutenant, a Captain and a Major.

Even if he's years older than the lad in front of him, John knows authority when he sees one, he was, after all, a Colonel for the Royal Army Medical Corps. But he refuses to call attention to it, lest of all in front of Sherlock! "John Watson."

Harry and Ron share a glance and John can't help but notice the quick squeeze the redhead gives his superior. Seems like he's picking up Sherlock's skills already.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Watson, I was wondering if.."

And as they go on to talk about the case, John wonder if he finally met someone who understands his hidden scars.


	30. Doctor Who Part I

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who  
Title: Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
Pairing for the chapter:Harry Potter/9th Doctor  
Warnings: none  
Prompt: Harry/9th Doctor part I

When Harry first met the Doctor, he was fresh out of Hogwarts and thinking of going through Auror Academy. They met while Harry was out in London, while the Doctor was just passing through while Rose Tyler visited her mother after a (unintentional) year apart.

"Oh, sorry!" The, then, seventeen year old said, glancing up at the tall man in a leather jacket he had just ran on.

"It's no problem, none at all!" The tall man said with a smile, staring at Harry up and down as if he was an interesting species.

And then, they got talking. No important secrets were shared, and no world-ending event happened, which was a first for both of them, just two males talking, two males who knew more about the earth than any other being currently living in it.

And then... the invitation.

"Doctor," a blond girl interrupted, carrying a backpack and smiling awkwardly at them. "Who's that?"

"Ah, yes... Rose, this is Harry, Harry, this is Rose." The Doctor introduced them, "say, Harry, would you like to come with us?"

"I can't, I've got stuff to do."

"What stuff? Get a job, get married and have 1.5 children?" The Doctor asked incredulously.

"When you put it like that..." Harry muttered, blushing a vibrant, Weasley-red.

"Doctor... he's a kid!" Rose interrupted, glancing at the two men.

"Come on, Rose, he's not a kid any more than you are! How old are you, Harry?"

"Seventeen, I'll be turning eighteen at the end of July. Why?" Harry asked, eyed narrowed. "Anyway, Doctor, I can't leave."

"Why not? You told me you've got no parents to annoy you, and it's only for the summer! Come on, we'll be back before you notice!"

Harry stared at the two, the girl, Rose, looked annoyed between him and the Doctor, and the man... he looked at him with a goofy smile, the sort of smile he used to see on Fred and George's faces before... before... and in any case, he had his wand and he was seventeen, if anything happened he could use his wand to defend himself.

"All right then, but I better be back before summer ends!" He smiled at the Doctor, nodded to Rose and followed them into the TARDIS.


	31. Doctor Who Part II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/9th Doctor  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Harry/9th Doctor part II

Harry smiled. Apparently, the Doctor and Rose were both waiting for a reaction to the cabin. Too bad Harry had seen that trick a thousand and one times already.

"Nice décor." He commented, for lack of something to say.

"What? That's it?" The Doctor cried, staring at Harry in clear disappointment.

"Yep, that's all you're getting out of me," Harry grinned, cocking his head to the side and staring at the one called simply the Doctor and the blond, Rose Tyler. "So, where are we going?"

"I'm taking you two farther that you've ever gone!" The Doctor grinned, turned some controls, there was a very unfamiliar noise, the ground shook some, reminding Harry of a portkey, and then they stopped and the Doctor opened the door.

The three of them approached a window and Harry felt his jaw drop. He could see the universe outside, the earth, slowly turning on its axis, the sun, bright and shinning, suspended in its place. Harry couldn't help it, he felt his eyes sting with tears. It was something he never though he'd see. He turned to the Doctor, to say thank you, to hug the man perhaps, but the words were stuck in his throat. The Doctor had say 'farther than they had ever gone,' but something was wrong, there were no satellites around the Earth, and he knew there should be at least one! The Unspeakables had put one there to strategically erase their presence from the muggles increasing technology.

"This is the year 5.5/apple/26, five billion years in your future." The Doctor looked at both humans, "and this is the day... hold on."

Harry watched, as the Doctor first looked as his watch and then brightness, everywhere! Something was happening, the sun...

"This is the day the sun expands. Welcome to the end of the world."

After that Harry was in a daze, he knew that Rose had asked everything he could've asked himself, except regarding Wizard Kind. But then she was a muggle, she wouldn't have known to ask anyway. Harry saw things, aliens, humanoid trees, the receptionist, if that's what it was called, was blue! He knew he was in something called 'Platform One' and... oh, right, gift exchange! He tugged on the Doctor's jacket, drawing him away from Rose for a moment.

"Doctor, at this age... so far in the future. Do you know if another race of humans came forth?"

"Another race of... humans? What do you mean?"

"Humans who call themselves wizards and witches, perhaps?"

"Oh! Those! Yes, yes, they came forth about... three or four hundred years in your future, then they separated themselves from human kind. Why do you ask, Harry?" The Doctor asked.

Harry didn't answer, he just smiled and joined Rose again.

As Jabe, the representative of the Forest of Cheem, approached them, Harry reached into his sleeve and took out the Holy and Phoenix Feather wand, much to the confusion of the nearby people.

"The gift of peace," the woman/tree said, moving as fluidly as a human, "I bring you a cutting of my grandfather."

"Thank you!" At Jabe's expectant look, the Doctor patted his leather jacket, and then turned to her with an incredibly smug look. "I give you, in return, air from my lungs," and he blew on her face.

Harry got the impression that Jabe would've blushed if she could.

"Right, right," Harry blushed, waved his wand and conjured a glass filled with greenish water. It was just a colorant, but good enough. "Water, from the place I once called home," and he bowed to her, his hands in front of him curved slightly in the shape of a ball.

It was the Blizzball sign from Final Fantasy X, it's not like anyone would be able to call him on it!


	32. Doctor Who Part III

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who or Charles Dickens and his works.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/9th Doctor  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Harry/9th Doctor part III

Harry stared at the six books in his hands, first editions the whole lot of them! He had always loved Dickens and he knew Hermione liked it as well. Well, her birthday gifts were guaranteed now!

"What is it you got there?" Rose asked, as her and the Doctor met up with Harry.

"First editions of three novels, well, two novels and one short-tale." Harry shrugged. He blinked at the man behind them, glancing first at Rose and then at the Doctor, clearly waiting introductions. He rolled his eyes at the utterly lack of manners from the two of them. "Please excuse their lack of manners, sir," Harry said, signing in their direction, "I'm Harry Potter."

"Charles Dickens, you can call me Charles." The gentleman said, giving a slight nod in Harry's direction.

"You're... Dickens." Harry breathed faintly, "are you, really?"

"I assure you, I am."

"Author of Oliver Twist, A Tale Of Two Cities and David Copperfield, Charles Dickens?" Harry asked, stunned, he knew they were in the past, but this... this! He had never expected to meet one of his favourite authors!

"I am, child," the author answered, amused.

"Mr. Dickens, sir," Harry babbled, and later he would headbang against a wall for sounding like a house-elf. "Would you... I mean, could you sign this for me? Please?" And he showed Dickens the pile of books he had gotten.

"Oh my goodness! Six?" Dickens asked, delighted.

"Yes... well... a copy of each for me, and the other is for my friend, Hermione."

"What an odd name, Shakespearean, right?"

"Yeah, after The Winter's Tale." Harry nodded, smiling at his amused audience, "really, would you mind, signing the books?"

"Signing... what for?"

"Oh, she'd really like that... she's a fan, I mean, she loves all of your work!" Harry quickly explained, after all 'fan' was a relatively new word and he probably wouldn't know the meaning.

Afterwards, when Harry returned to his own time line when excuses for his absence had been made, when the Auror Academy was just starting and during Hermione's birthday, he would present the copies to her all three of them signed _'To Ms. Hermione Granger, with hopes that you'll continue to be the lovely girl Harry tells me you are, Charles Dickens'_

While Hermione would cry and almost strangle Harry while demanding an explanation, the presence of those six copies would have more consequences than Harry would've imagined.


	33. Vacation

**A/N:** I blame this drabble on felawred and on flayu! (if you've seen her art you'll know why)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/James Sirius/Albus Severus  
 **Warnings:** Threesome, incest, graphic sex  
 **Prompt** **:** Vacation

Harry groaned, letting his head hit the wall behind him. His breath hitched, and his fingers gripped two heads full of dark hair. Both of his sons... Al had him in his throat, that lovely mouth of this sucking and slurping and drooling on his cock, James had been teasing his balls from the beginning, licking and teasing the soft skin with the rough stubble he now had.

"Stop it, both of you." Harry whispered, caressing both heads, one with glasses and hazel eyes, his eldest son, the other without glasses and with his own green eyes staring back at him, his youngest son.

"What is it daddy?" Al asked, his eyes darkened in lust. "Too much?"

"He's not as young as he used to be, Al." James grinned cheekily at his father.

Harry just rolled his eyes at the two of them, tugging James forward and kissing his eldest son, his thumb caressing the jaw, going down the neck and forcefully ripping the old Gryffindor shirt. His hands explored the toned chest, but he refrained from taking off their pants.

"Please..." James whispered, his hips moving, searching for friction.

"Slut," Al teased, grinning at both of them. He gave James a quick kiss on his exposed neck and then bend over Jamie to steal one of his father's kisses.

"All right already," Harry grinned at his sons, getting up with James still on his lap and settling both of them on his bed, with Al joining as well, snuggling on his father's other side, his hand automatically moving lower to grasp the hard leaking cock.

"You know," Harry begun, wondering when his boys had turned into incubus, "when I called you two here, it was to talk about your vacation, now that you're both of age, not to get assaulted." He grinned, kissing Al and then James.

"Can't it wait?" Albus pleaded.

"Yeah, we have time." James whined.

"If you're sure..." And Harry grinned back at his boys, his hands deftly undoing buttons and clasps and zippers and reaching towards creamy skin.

Talking could wait.


	34. First Kiss

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/Lord voldemort  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** First Kiss

Harry stared at the frightening crimson eyes of his enemy, both of them breathing hard due to the last couple of minutes. It was hard to imagine that they were there, locked inside the lowest past of the dungeons with no way out. As soon as Voldemort had noticed the active magic suppressors he had snapped. He had destroyed the room they were in, then proceeded to attack Harry, not only physically, but mentally as well.

And now there they were, both bloody and bruised - Harry made sure he gave as much as he got - with Voldemort pressing him against the wall, pinning Harry's arms above his head, their faces inches apart, and with Voldemort hissing and growling at him. The man had lost every shred of control he ever possessed and, due to the Ministry, Harry was the only one to suffer his ire; Harry was man enough to admit it, he was terrified.

He had no idea what was going through Voldemort's mind, Harry had no idea what he might do to him, the only thing he was aware of was that he had to keep very still.

His breath hitched, in fear, as Voldemort got even closer to him, their noses almost touching, but not quite, Harry watched as a forked tongue came out of his mouth, and suddenly he realised that Voldemort could, clearly, smell his fear.

Harry dared close his eyes as that tongue traced his stubble-covered chin, dared to swallow as it traced his Adam's apple, he was... he was...

 _"Are you enjoying this, Mr. Potter?"_ Voldemort hissed, and Harry's eyes went from tightly shut to wide open, watching those crazed crimson eyes display Voldemort amusement.

Harry opened his mouth to reply when he felt cold, thin lips cover his own, he could do nothing but comply with the forceful kiss when Voldemort hissed against, _into_ his mouth, _"You better be, because I certainly intend to enjoy it."_

And Harry, after a moment's hesitation, opted for his own self-preservation and carefully moved his tongue against Voldemort's, closing his eyes of his own volition when he felt those hands tighten around his writs, he couldn't help but find slightly erotic the feel of those thin lips against his own, that tongue moving expertly inside his mouth, teasing him, drawing him out.

He couldn't help it, he moaned.

And Voldemort stopped, stepping away from the boy and eyeing him from top to bottom, the dishevelled appearance, the dry blood on his hands, the torn clothes. For once, he couldn't help himself and gave the boy a chaste kiss.

Voldemort turned his back to the defeated boy, knocking on the wooden door and ordering, "Lucius, Severus, Walden, open the door, we're done here."

Harry watched, disbelieving, as the door opened and a Death Eater bowed low for their master, saying simply, "Yes, my lord."


	35. The King's owner

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Bleach  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/Kurosaki Ichigo  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** The king's owner

The whole of Soul Society felt when _something_ invaded them. It wasn't Aizen, it wasn't the Menos Grande, it was something the Gotei 13 had never felt before! It was a rush of warm air smelling like lilies and summer and green grass and the Arctic wind. It was a novelty and before anyone could do anything to even begin to understand, both Yamamoto, Captain of the 1st division, and Ichigo were gone, running towards the source of power. While the rest of the twelve captains rushed to catch up, said power looked around where he had landed.

"Just so you know," Harry Potter, owner of the Deathly Hallows and master of Death, said, "I'm never, ever allowing you to take me anywhere ever again!" There was another rush of air around him, and Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh sure, you laugh about it now!"

"Who are you?" Came the gruff voice of Captain Yamamoto.

"Name's Harry Potter, who are you?" Harry asked, his head tilting to the side as he stared at the two of them and at the multitude of people coming up.

"Harry... Potter? Harry as in... my pen-pal?" Ichigo asked, fighting instance forgotten as he stared at the teen.

"You're... Ichigo? Really?" Harry asked, smiling at the orange-haired teen. "How odd, I never thought I'd ever meet you, how are you? And what are you doing here?" Harry asked, his eyes narrow. Death had told him he would take Harry to the other world, to see how things were.

"This is my... my part-time job." Ichigo muttered, still astonished that he was meeting someone from the living world here, in Soul Society of all places!

"Part-time? But this is... this is the spirit world, what are you doing here?"

"The question is, boy, what are _you_ doing here? You're not dead, I can feel it!" Yamamoto said, and Harry suddenly realised he was surrounded by odd people.

"Death brought me here," Harry answered, shrugging. He saw no harm in confiding in this people because... they were all dead, and Harry was the master of Death, wasn't he?

"A Shinigami? Who was it?" Another person, shorter than Harry and with turquoise eyes and short, spiked, white hair asked.

"I said it already!" Harry said, rolling his eyes, "Death. Death the entity, not one of your Gods of Death or something silly like that.

Another warm breeze, filled with smells went through the crowd and Harry laughed, while those spirits of Soul Society shivered.

"Death tells me that to you all he's known as the Spirit King, does that mean anything to you?" Harry asked, still smiling.


	36. Burning oil

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.  
 **Title:** Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!  
 **Pairing for the chapter:** Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Prompt** **:** Burning oil

When Harry has officially left the Light Side of the Great War it wasn't because Albus was a manipulative old coot (he was that, in a sort of grandfatherly way) it wasn't because the Weasleys were stealing from him or some nonsense, it wasn't because the whole world was out to get him.

It was because the Dark Lord's kitchen was better and there was no one to keep him from cooking.

He loved Mrs. Weasley, he truly, honestly did, but the woman had a notion that he was going to burn down her kitchen the way Bill and Percy did! Hell, Harry knew how to cook, he knew how to bake and it was one of the few things he enjoyed doing.

Well, that and not to mention that Voldemort was a wonderful kisser.

Lost in his daydream of days past, Harry didn't feel the dark presence behind him until he was captured by two arms, one around his waist and the other around his shoulders and lips on his neck, murmuring sweet darkness to him.

As Harry surrendered to whispered words and wandering hands and lips, he didn't notice one of the pans over the fire.

It happened while both of them were getting comfortable in the dual act of lovemaking that the sirens against smoke and fire begun blazing and the spells which made torrents of water pour on the fire.

Harry hastily got up, throwing a robe over, and hurried to the kitchen, followed by an amused Dark Lord. What he saw made him gasp and round on his lover about distracting him! There, right on the stove, were the remains of the pan, filled with oil.

 **A/N:** All right, that's all for now folks. If you want more, please tell me, I find myself out of inspiration! SilverLion, it's been a long time since I saw James Cameron's Avatar, not sure I'll do it justice.


End file.
